


death by chocolate

by notthelasttime



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Dessert & Sweets, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthelasttime/pseuds/notthelasttime
Summary: “Do you like it?”A slice of apple slipped off his spoon and landed on the plate with asplat. Prompto kept his arm hovering in the air, bite of pie half raised to his open mouth, eyes wide and fixed on Ignis.“It’s good Specs. Kinda different,” Noctis said, looking at his plate and oblivious to Prompto’s distress. Because it wasn’t Noctis that Ignis was looking at with that soft and curious smile, wanting to know his thoughts. He was staring at Prompto.And Prompto, ever eloquent, always ready on the spot with suave responses and quick and witty comments said, “Uh.”
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 96





	death by chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> my contribution to the promnis zine, Found Beneath the Stars!

“Do you like it?”

A slice of apple slipped off his spoon and landed on the plate with a  _ splat _ . Prompto kept his arm hovering in the air, bite of pie half raised to his open mouth, eyes wide and fixed on Ignis.

“It’s good Specs. Kinda different,” Noctis said, looking at his plate and oblivious to Prompto’s distress. Because it wasn’t Noctis that Ignis was looking at with that soft and curious smile, wanting to know his thoughts. He was staring at Prompto.

And Prompto, ever eloquent, always ready on the spot with suave responses and quick and witty comments said, “Uh.”

He swallowed hard as to not to cough on the crumbs in his throat and tried again. “It’s great Ignis. Really! Really,  _ really _ … great.” And then he shoved the spoon into his mouth to give him an excuse to stop talking, face turning as warm as the slice of pie in front of him. The pie  _ was _ great. Fantastic, really, and not just because it looked pretty with the criss-cross top and the extra little leaves made of crust decorating the edges. Caramel apple pie, the perfect mix of tart and not too sweet.

“ _ Sage in the crust _ ,” Ignis had told him conspiratorially when Prompto had come poking around the kitchen. Ignis always liked those little twists. Spice in chocolate and herbs with fruit. Ignis leaned in close to his ear to speak, while they stood side by side at the kitchen counter. Prompto had stuttered some excuse and extracted himself, scurrying back to sit with Noctis on the couch, almost afraid if he spent too much time in Ignis’s presence he would combust. But the sage paid off and the pie was delicious, and Ignis had looked at Prompto like his opinion on the matter was worth something.

“Take a piece home,” Noct told him later, Ignis long gone and Prompto gathering his things. He didn’t even argue, or try to sidestep the generosity like he normally did.

In fact, Prompto took two. 

  
  
  


Prompto had a problem.

That problem was Ignis Scientia. 

Well… sort of. Kind of.  _ Ignis _ wasn’t a problem- not really, when he was perfect and talented, but never arrogant. He remembered stupid little things Prompto had said when rambling, and would ask up on them. How his parents were doing ( _ out of town, yet again? _ ), how his Crownsguard training was going ( _ don’t let the others intimidate you, the Marshal won’t stand for any ostracization _ ), and always, if Prompto had eaten yet, if he was hungry, if he’d like to stay for dinner. Prompto tried to avoid it at first, escape the kind offers, embarrassed by charity, but Ignis, knowing his home life, always told him the same thing;  _ No one should have to eat alone _ .

And because it was Ignis doing the cooking, the food served was always amazing too.

So it wasn’t so much that Ignis was a problem, because problems didn’t come from that kind of perfection. The problem was that Prompto had found himself with a raging, uncontrollable crush. 

_ Just a little crush _ , he told himself at first,  _ there’s nothing wrong with that _ . Except that by the time he’d come around to admitting his feelings for Ignis, that little crush wasn’t so little anymore. 

Befriending Noct was one thing- he was a Prince, sure, but he didn’t  _ act _ like a Prince. If Prompto pretended the big black car with tinted windows and chaufer didn’t exist, if he squinted at Noct’s messy apartment until it blurred and stopped looking so fancy, he could ignore the material stuff. Because Noctis was just like anybody else. At least… what Prompto imagined they would be like. If he had any other close friends. But Noct was decidedly normal in every way except for the fact that he was a Prince. He was easy to fall into step with, to goof off with, to talk with.

Then there was Ignis.

Utterly unobtable Ignis. 

Prompto made the mistake of thinking Ignis was another Citadel royal when they first met, someone important, but not someone that Prompto would ever have to deal with directly. Until he heard Noctis call him Iggy.

_ Iggy. Specs _ .

“ _ That’s him? _ ” Prompto asked when Ignis was out of the apartment and no longer in earshot, embarrassed at himself for playing the wallflower when he was with Noct’s oldest friend.. But… also not sure what he could have even said to the man that spoke like a true diplomat, dressed like he was on his way to a press conference, and made Prompto tingle from the top of his head down to the ends of his toes. Intimidation, of course. Intimidation and fear that the Crown would find him lacking as a proper friend for Noctis and he’d wind up in an underground dungeon somewhere.

“Don’t look so freaked out,” Noctis had said, laughing and clapping him on the back, “it’s only Specs.”

“Yeah, right…” Prompto said, mouth dry, “only Specs.”

  
  
  
  


As it turned out, Specs was quite the chef. 

Noct had made mention of Iggy’s cooking before, throwaway comments about what he’d made for dinner, or dropped off at the apartment. Prompto hadn’t thought much of it in the past. But in the past he didn’t know that Iggy was a six foot long-legged creature of beauty that looked like he belonged on the cover of some men’s fashion magazine.

Not that he’d ever say something like that out loud.

“You wanna stay for dinner? Specs is cooking tonight.”

“I mean… if Ignis is cool with it?”

The thing was, the choice between staying for dinner or going home to an empty house and left to figure out what to eat on his own, was an easy choice to make. Or it  _ would _ have been an easy choice, had Prompto’s paranoia and the fear of being a burden not clouded everything he did. 

“Of course he’s cool with it,” Noct said, not sparing Prompto an eye roll, “he’ll jump at the chance to feed anyone, and Specs always makes too much. Besides,” he gave Prompto’s arm a nudge, “he was asking me what kind of desserts you like.”

Oh.

_ Oh no _ .

  
  
  
  


There was the chocolate mocha cake, with rich ganache between layers that Ignis had served with coffee. Then the peach galette, enough ginger to make it tangy as well as sweet, which had been delicious, even if Prompto had to ask;  _ Uh, Ignis? What’s a galette? _ Then the fig and mascarpone tart, with pistachios and whole honey roasted figs, and strawberry shortcake- infused with lavender, because Ignis always had a little twist. And of course, the pastries. Pastries on pastries, Tenebraean in origin. All similar but slightly different, as Ignis tried to match Noct’s vague descriptions of the treat he’d had as a child. 

Noct would  _ hmm _ , and mull as he ate them, always saying it wasn’t quite right- not the right texture, not the right flavor, too sweet or not sweet enough, the wrong kind of fruit, the wrong kind of filling.

Prompto thought he was crazy. One after the next, when he thought they couldn’t get any better, they  _ did _ . So he’d gush with compliments where Noct was stingy, telling Ignis how good it all tasted.

_ Do you like it? _

It was always asked with that little bit of a smile.

_ Do you like it? _

And Prompto’s answers were predictable, not as eloquent as Ignis, but he could give flattery where it was more than due with enthusiasm. When Ignis asked-

_ Do you like it? _

Sometimes Prompto could pretend that he was asking

Do you like  _ me? _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ignis was in a hurry.

Which was a shame, since maybe Prompto had been hanging around Noct’s, nurturing a little bud of hope that he might get to hang out with Ignis in the kitchen that night. They could be called friends now, a strange novelty that Prompto was still getting used to, but he could roll the word around on his tongue like a candy and he liked the way it tasted.  _ Friends _ . Even if another word between them could have tasted sweeter.

“There’s plenty of soup for both of you, it should still be warm.” Ignis unloaded the bags he brought over looking almost flustered, which was an anomaly. Ignis didn’t do flustered. “I’m putting your lunch for tomorrow in the refrigerator,” Ignis said, holding up a tupperware container, “and there are pastries on the counter.”

“What’s the rush?” Noct asked, peeking inside one of the bags. 

Ignis’s sigh was barely restrained, “I’ve got a late work night ahead. Sorry I can’t stay.”

Noct waved him away, back to poking, and after taking the final item out of his bag, Ignis turned to Prompto.

“This is for you.” An unmarked box that Prompto took with curiosity. He could feel the tension in Ignis that was rubbing off on him, triggering some weird paranoid reaction in his brain, but his fingers wandered to the top of the box regardless, popping it open instead of subjecting Ignis to questions.

Chocolate.

Chocolate brownies, specifically, four large portions with cut strawberries on top. Some kind of drizzle over the top that he was sure Ignis had some fancy name for that Prompto wouldn’t even know what it was or how to pronounce. A box just for him. Just him.

“Chocolate covered strawberry brownies,” Ignis supplied when Prompto said nothing, and there was that weird tension again.

“Wha- I-... thanks Iggy,” Prompto said, feeling something roll over him in waves, making him lightheaded. He looked back down at the box. “Chocolate and strawberry’s my favorite.”

“I know,” Ignis said quietly, then excused himself and all but bolted out the door, leaving Noct staring at Prompto while biting back a giddy grin.

“ _ Dude _ .”

  
  
  
  


Prompto found Ignis still in his office.

Despite the late hour he was hunched over, working away, door ajar, as the rest of the Citadel had packed up and gone home. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make, to come here instead of going home.

He knocked.

Iggy’s head shot up, confused, then surprised as his eyes landed on Prompto, glasses sliding down his nose and hair looking somewhat wild.

“Prompto.” He blinked rapidly, filling the silence again when Prompto stayed silent. “Did you need something?”

Prompto stepped inside, not missing how Ignis’s eyes went directly to the box in his hands. Had Ignis been more awake, or prepared, there was no doubt Prompto never would have seen the look of panic on his face.

“More like I thought  _ you _ might need something,” and that brought the confusion back on Ignis’s face. Prompto had never been especially good with words, but he couldn’t back out now. “Company. I… figured you’d still be here and well… I’ve got some really amazing brownies here. My favorite flavors, actually. But I didn’t want to have to eat them alone.”

Ignis went soft at that, and Prompto took his invitation to step forward and sit down across from him at the giant desk. “Nobody should have to eat alone.”

“No,” Ignis said, “no they shouldn’t.”

In the deserted break room, Ignis pulled out two cans of Ebony from his stash in the fridge while Prompto found a pair of forks. They sat at one of the tiny tables under the fluorescents exchanging small talk between bites of brownie.  _ Delicious _ bites of brownie- fudgy and rich, balanced out with fresh strawberry. Looking at Ignis across the table, Prompto couldn’t remember why he’d been so scared or intimidated. Especially not when Ignis snorted when he laughed or got chocolate on the side of his mouth, or when his eyes got all soft and he asked,  _ Do you like it? _ Sounding dangerously close to meaning,  _ Do you like me?  _

Ignis didn’t even mind when Prompto reached out to clean his mouth off, didn’t mind that he let his hand linger.

Just like Prompto didn’t mind much when Ignis leaned forward to plant a kiss on his mouth, tasting dangerously like chocolate. 


End file.
